Anchored Page 5

  He shrugs, avoiding my gaze as he moves toward a table of finished products: chairs, dresser drawers, a collection of ornately designed picture frames. There is a full set of kitchen tools, including spoons, forks, and a ladle. He points to the utensils. “These are a wedding gift. I started them in Boston, but I didn’t have the right equipment. I brought them here, and they came together quickly.”

  Questions race through my mind, wondering when and where and how. I don’t understand how he could have started a project without my knowing. I think about the moments when he could have slipped away to his smaller shed in Boston. When I was there, he was always nearby.

  “Have long have you had this?”

  “The land has been in my name since I was sixteen, but I couldn’t own it until eighteen. I took my time figuring out the design and layout of the house. I lived with Evan until I was able to build. The barn was always here, so I refurbished it to suit my needs. Everything was finished about five years ago.”

  We knew each other then, and I knew nothing about any of this. I fight the words grappling to spew forward. Why haven’t you mentioned this? Is this what you used to do when you would leave? How did you make things in Boston? He never smelled like sawdust.

  Nick walks over to a large swing hanging from metal chains attached to a scaffold.

  “Is this for someone’s porch?”

  “Nope.” He grimaces, looking at some fine detail in the wood. “This is for the park. We thought swings would be a nice touch under the mature trees. Two are constructed and at the park for installation. This one will go under the large tree in the center of the park. I thought it would be a nice complement to the update.” He pulls on the chair, testing its strength. “Sit on it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Not really.” He pulls on the chain again. “I need to make sure it can hold weight.” He snickers at my sour face. “Just kidding. Look.” He sits down, sending the chair into motion. “See, safe enough for an ox. Sit with me.”

  Marking the time of the swing so I don’t end up on my rear end, I flop on. To my surprise, the heavy wood construction is comfortable. “Oh, this is really nice, Nick.” The motion of the swing is an easy, lulling sway.

  We sit in silence, enjoying the smooth motion of the swing for a moment before he inhales. “Are you going to tell me where you’ve been?”

  His voice is quiet, his gaze glued to the floor. I see the weight of Nick’s mind pulling on him. His downturned mouth breaks me in two. Moments ago he was floating around his shop; now he seems drawn, lost. I assumed he would rally while I was away. I didn’t expect him to be so focused on me. Caleb assured me he was fine, so he must have been. Right?

  “I can, but it’s really complicated.”

  He nods, his eyes still trained to the floor. “Did you leave because of someone else?”

  A tense mask falls over his face as he waits, picking at my guilty heart.

  “No, Nick,” I turn to him, touching his thigh. “Never. There is no one else.”

  “Blake?” His best friend’s name sounds like it tastes like acid on his tongue. “He’s with Kat. Did he tell you about her?”

  His question is a hefty punch to my gut. I didn’t ask Blake anything other than to help me try to get my head on straight. I needed to feel something other than despair. I needed to hide for a little while longer until I could figure out how to come back into my world as a new, revamped Skyler.

  “He didn’t mention her.” The moments leading up to Nick entering that room, and pounding Blake into the ground, fall into place. “Oh my god . . . is that why she was there?”

  “Ax said he brought her in.” Nick’s eyes scan the room, looking at everything but me. “I’m not sure what was happening, but I don’t think Blake knew she was at Reign.”

  “You didn’t have to punch him.”

  Nick nails me with a possessive glint in his eyes, his brows raised. “The fuck I didn’t, Skyler.”

  “What you saw is the extent of what happened.” I turn a little closer to Nick. “I kept him in very tight parameters, Nick. He never saw me naked.”

  “That’s bullshit,” he spits. “You were completely naked, Skyler. I know what your ass looks like, and so does he.”

  “Blake never saw all of me.” I’m not sure why this will make a difference, but it does for me. From behind everything looks the same. It’s the front view that is different. “Everyone in that room has seen me naked at some point in time.”

  “Sex?” he asks, unable to look at me.

  “No.” I guess now is the time. “The last person I had sex with was you.”

  Nick inhales sharply, his head rocking back and forth. “That was a mistake, angel. I’ve apologized for that night.”

  He has. A million times over. For no reason at all. “Call it whatever you want, Nick. You are the only man I’ve had sex with in a very long time.”

  I feel the urge to follow with You could be the only man I ever have sex with again, but I can’t. Not now.

  “Why him?” he asks.

  I snort a laugh. “Honestly?” Nick looks sullen but nods. I know I hurt him by going to Blake, but he was my only option. “He’s easy, Nick. Blake is a total pushover. I knew what to say to get what I wanted. It’s that simple.”

  “And you couldn’t do that with me?”

  I was very wrong to think my explanation would make him feel any better.

  “Blake is different for me. You know that. He’s functional. I care about him, but I don’t have a strong emotional tie to him. You’re . . .you.”

  “What does that mean?” he asks, clearly offended. “I’m me. Of course I’m me.”

  Sometimes, he’s brilliant. Other times, the filament in his light bulb is blown to pieces. “If I had called you, asked you for a session, and told you that I didn’t feel comfortable talking about where I’d been, would you have done the scene?”

  “Nope,” he replies without hesitation.

  “There you go.” He looks irritated, confused. “I needed a release, Nick. I was tired of feeling like garbage.”

  “I would have helped you.”

  “I wanted that more than anything, but it wasn’t the right time.”

  “You’ve talked to me before,” he mumbles.

  And here is the issue with Nick. He doesn’t realize how growly bear he can be. “Listen.” I turn to him, the swing jerking from the shift of my body. “I’m not saying it was right. I didn’t know it would turn into the scene it did. Do not roll your eyes at me—you know that was ridiculous. Nick, you cannot just punch people, or things, when you are pissed. You need to use words.” I bracket his face in my hands, feeling bold, or maybe just a little insane. “Use your words.”

  His strong hands come up to grip my wrists, the pressure of his grasp heavier than I expected. Nick is not having any of my attitude.

  “You want words, fine,” he bites out. “I hated life. I hated Caleb for knowing where you were and keeping his mouth shut. I wanted to rip the world apart at the seams to find you and just know you were okay. Then I find you with not just another guy but one of my best friends, in the place we call home. Not knowing where you were for an entire year was painful; watching you with him was fucking torture.”

  His eyes possess that icy glint that informs me he’s telling the truth. The awful, soul-piercing truth.

  “Nick . . .” I can’t look at him, but he grabs my chin, forcing me to stare at him.

  “You will not leave here until I know what happened. Is that clear?”

  I want to fight him, to tell him he’s not going to get anything he wants. But the idea of telling him, purging my fears and anxieties, letting him decide if I’m worthy or not, is comforting. If he can’t accept me, I’ll have to find a way to move through this world. But now, with his hands on me, his fierce possession, his demand to know what happened, and his jealous anger over Blake, or whatever imaginary man he created in his mind, is everything I have craved for a year. Day
dreams and fantasies were dull replicas of the vibrant man grounding me.

  I shift my weight, moving one leg over his lap to straddle him. “Yes,” I whisper before gripping his hair, just how he likes it, and pressing my hungry mouth to his.

  Chapter 7

  Skyler

  In the moments when I have pushed Nick simply to undo the ridiculous limits on us, I have never been aggressive. Never have I been bold. But it’s been so long since he has touched me, since I’ve felt him. I’m stuffing my head deep in the lion’s mouth, hoping he accepts the offering.

  Beneath me, his frame tightens. One strong arm bands across my back, fingers gripping the curve of my waist. My hips grind against the ridge of his cock, and a hungry rumble emanates from deep in his throat. Nick’s fingers tangle in my hair, then skate along the length of my neck. His touch sparks a sharp shiver down my back. I know that feeling too well.

  Before I can stun him with another passion-loaded one-two punch, his hand grips my shoulder and yanks back. I relax my grip on his hair and let him put distance between us. My lips throb with the memory of his greedy mouth. He was with me, until he realized what was happening. After all this time, and even in this place, we still can’t just be. Nicholas William Harris follows his ride-or-die protocols like a champ.

  “Be very careful, angel,” he warns as those hazel eyes churn with frustration.

  I have handled sex—almost everything, really—with Nick like a carton of eggs encased in bubble wrap. I am officially over it. We have been apart, and I know it’s selfish, but here he is so different. He’s my Nick from back home, with a new dimension that stirs the deep ache I’ve held only for him. Nick has always been murky waters, but here the water is clear, just deep and complex.

  “Can we have a night like we did before?”

  His eyes flash with the memory of our one night. The night we let go. In the few hours when our bodies tangled and we were free, I felt the depth of Nicholas William Harris’s love.

  “I’ve told you before,” he pushes through gritted teeth, “that night was a mistake.”

  The words are out, and his swollen cock jerks against my body, radiating warmth with the lie. His dismissal of that night is infuriating. We fought and argued about it time and time again. I’m not rehashing old arguments anymore. He wants me. I feel it. I can see it. Nicholas William Harris is strong enough to toss me like a sack off his lap, yet here I stay.

  Nick bites back a groan as I grind my hips against him. His hands grip my hips, halting my movement, but he can’t stop my mouth.

  “Yes, that night was a total mistake, Nick. Your body hovering over mine . . .” My hands caress the heavy muscles of his chest and arm. “Mistake.”

  His head tilts when my fingers brush his jaw. “Your mouth all over my body.” His fingers dig into my hips at my touch. I lean in, my lips brushing against his cheek. “Mistake.”

  Nick’s lips part; his chest expands with a deep inhale. “Remember the relentless push of your cock into my pussy?” I issue a passing scrape of my teeth against his earlobe and whisper, “Mistake.”

  Nick’s hands move to curl around my rear end, his fingers pressing deep into my skin. He isn’t using all his strength. He’s fighting himself. He wants this as much as I do, so I level the final blow. “I think about all those mistakes when I touch myself. I think about you, us, and how much I loved that night.”

  “Don’t do this,” he grates. Nick’s entire body jolts.

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Don’t push me, Skyler.” He looks wild, barely contained. I’m not even sure how he’s still sitting down. In any other place, he would have made space between us.

  “Push yourself, Nick. Let me. I want you. Please.”

  Rugged breath pushes from his nose, and his grip on my ass tightens, pinning me in place. His glare seems angry, untamed. His hips buck, pressing up against my caged body. A groan of deep satisfaction pushes into the open air.

  Nick’s mouth captures mine, his fingers tangled roughly in my hair. We feast on each other like starved animals finding life-giving nourishment. Hungry for more, my body writhes against him. It isn’t enough to soothe the ache that only he can snuff out. I need him closer.

  Pressing back, I slide off his lap and unbutton my jeans. “Off or around my ankles?”

  Nick looks positively wild. Even as he leans back on the swing, looking relaxed and calm, I can tell he wants to howl at the moon. He is ravenous, and I love it.

  “Ankles. I’ve thought about you in here. Now I’m going to have you.”

  I slide my jeans down, his lustful gaze caressing the length of my thighs. “Don’t move.” He gets up from the swing with ease as he moves across the shed. He returns with a blanket. “Hold this,” he says, dropping the rough material into my arms.

  The fabric is coarse but makes my arms toasty warm in a minute. I watch Nick move around the room, shifting equipment and eventually moving two massive sawhorses in front of me. He takes the blanket and drapes it over the stands. “Hips against this one.” He trails his fingers against my hip, his touch dangerously close to my pussy. “Hands on that one.”

  My rational mind wants to set limits, but they will only spark questions. I need him so badly, I’ll do anything. The thick blanket covers the wood to save me from splinters, but not the structure. The hard wood digs into my hips as I lean over the sawhorse. Nick helps me find a comfortable grip on the second horse, making sure the blanket doesn’t touch any part of me not touching the wood.

  Satisfied with my place, he walks behind me. “Fuck, it’s been a long time. I love you on display.”

  His finger runs the length of my backside and dips into my aching core. His touch is rough, aggressive, and perfect.

  The pad of his finger finds my clit, circling and pressing. Nick’s lips graze the fleshy part of my rear end, his teeth scoring my skin. My legs soften, giving my weight to the sawhorse as the sensation of his touch and teeth drugs my limbs. The tempo of his fingers amplifies, my hips jerking against the pulse of his movements. He moves behind me, his tongue lazing up my exposed slit. Sound falls from my lips, the words and the moans trapped for months released in the silent space around us. I feel the pressure of his hand on my low back, pinning me against the wood as the world becomes a slurry of Nick’s wicked hands and mouth. Mind-numbing tingles build, pulsing into every pore. A mangled version of his name escapes my mouth, pleading for his body. I hear his grunt, the heavy press of air leaving his body as he restrains his base urges. He presses against my clit as his teeth sink into the crease of my rear end with unyielding force. The explosion of pleasure and pain forces a scream, releasing the demons and heavy thoughts I tried to eliminate with Blake. It’s not a scene; it’s just us.

  It’s Nick.

  His love.

  “You’ll never leave me again, angel,” he says, lips still pressed to my skin. “Or I’ll find you and destroy the bastard who took you from me.” His teeth sink in, precariously, close to my pussy, his hot breath fanning across my slick skin.

  “No one else.” I struggle for air under the haze of his touch, still pressing against my delicate flesh. “I promise. It’s you. Please, Nick.”

  A flurry of violent curses falls from his lips. I’ve heard all of them before. It’s how I know he’s there, that spot where all he wants is pleasure and me.

  His rough grip holds me in place as his thumbs spread me wide. He slides in with one hard, unyielding thrust. The pressure of his body filling mine registers in my throat.

  Nick’s hunger is primal. His hips pump against my body, the sound of his guttural groans fall over me, pulling me deeper into the moment. I feel him everywhere, pushing against every ounce of my skin. His arm comes around my waist, lifting me up and pressing my back against his body. Nick’s other hand dives and rubs my clit with vicious efficiency.

  “Is this how you wanted this?” he growls into my ear. “You want me to take you like an animal? You want me to mark you?”<
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  “Yes,” I whimper. His words trigger a tightening in my belly, the bright spark of pleasure throbbing around his dick and bolting upward into my chest. “Mark me.”

  A fierce rumble rolls from him, bucking into me at a ruthless pace. Nick’s fingers press and pinch the parts of my body he made soft and needy as the world shatters around me.

  His fingers dig into my skin as he seizes in pleasure, incoherent words falling from his mouth. Nick holds me close, his flesh swelling deep inside me, then filling me with his essence.

  My heart, wrung with pleasure, feels whole. This is what I needed, the connection I longed for. No one but him could make me feel this way.

  Nick pulls from my body, and I hear him tucking himself back into his pants. “I didn’t have a condom,” he mutters. “Just like last time.”

  Bringing my jeans back to their rightful place, I savor the moment we created. I know the look on his face will hurt. He won’t have the satisfied look of a lover who just ruined their partner with pleasure. I turn to look at him, his hands on his hips, looking guilty and distant. He has always been careful with me. Nick lamented over not using a condom two summers ago. Then, I could understand his concern. I was worried too. Now, it’s not a viable option. My decision to live took my choice to have a baby the old-fashioned way.

  Even with no chance, I can’t let him feel the weight of that worry again. “You don’t have to worry, Nick. Just like last time.”

  His mouth bends, ready to level fighting words. I don’t think Nick will ever feel comfortable enough to offer comfort that isn’t prescribed by a scene, but he would never want to damage my life. Someday I hope we can move past it and he can be free with his affection, but I’m tired of waiting. He inhales, ready to launch an argument I don’t want to hear, so I snuggle close to him and wrap my arms around him. Nick stiffens, his arms held out, unsure of what to do. I hear the pounding of his heart deep in his chest and nestle closer, hugging his lean waist with all of my strength. I hear his inhale, then feel him relax, his arms closing around me. Nick’s chin rests on top of my head, tucking me closer. “I’m sorry.”